What Are You Doing Here?
by Elena George
Summary: What if Sharon got a second chance after some soul-searching? Would an encounter with her very own Guardian Angel help her clarify her vision or reverse her choices? For those who hated S06E09. Pls review. Ch 2 completes the story. I hope you like how I solved the problem.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Sharon's death in "Conspiracy Theory" dishonored the loyal fans of _Major Crimes_. We had been promised no more principals would die and then this! So, like others of us out there in fandom, I decided to rectify the situation. We will give Sharon the happier ending that you gave her.**

What Are You Doing Here?

Sharon was suddenly gently transported to a place she'd never seen before. The last thing she could clearly remember was yelling, no goading, the widow, Vicky Landon, into admitting what they all knew to be true. She knew Provenza was instinctually right - "it's always the wife!" Who but the wife could be so personal in the execution of her celebrity husband. The others had been killed without the same level of malice. Vanessa, sadly, had to be contained unlike Bonny Pearl who was helpless to defend herself in the car seat. She felt a little sad and angry that the widow had thrown her own son under the bus on the way down. The son was as arrogant as the father, but he was not guilty of any crime other than being an oversexed, young jerk.

Now she found herself here, of all places. It was obviously not the hospital room she figured she'd eventually awaken in. No, it was just a dreary grey. She mused and how folks were falling all over themselves to decorate in grey these days. Why not a cheery color or a warm color or a nature color; no, it was a grey, like a dirty fog. However, Sharon did not feel oppressed like a dirty fog should make her feel. The grey was not heavy at all. There was something in the grey that even felt hopeful, not encouraging, but, yes, hopeful. Then as she turned around to see what might be in the grey, she saw a light at quite a long distance from where she was now. There was some kind of shadow moving toward her out of the light. In the blink of an eye, the shadow stood before her.

"What are you doing here?" the person demanded.

"Who are you?" Sharon demanded back.

"I'm your guardian angel," replied the Being.

Sharon stood transfixed for a long moment, just blinking, not thinking. She then opened her mouth, "But you don't look like an angel."

The Being laughed hard and joyfully. With shoulders still moving, "Well, no I guess I don't. At least not one of those angels from your Christmas collection."

"You don't have wings!" she exclaimed. "Are you trying to 'earn your wings' like movie angels? I'm not playing that game."

The Being smiled, "Not all angels have wings. Most don't. The ones who do have very special and specific missions for which wings are useful. The cherubim and seraphim are the two 'regiments' of God's angels which possess wings."

The Being considered Sharon once more, and then asked again, "What are you doing here?"

Sharon looked around, still puzzled by the lack of scenery, "Where is here?"

The Being regarded her carefully, "What do you remember?"

Sharon bowed her head, "I remember being in my office with Louie Provenza doing an interrogation of a murder suspect."

"Then what?"

Sharon shrugged her shoulders and shook her head, "I don't..."

The Being moved a few steps closer to Sharon and handed a phone to her.

"This is my phone!" exclaimed Sharon. "How did you get it?"

The phone lit up when Sharon touched the screen. Once again, Sharon found herself transfixed staring at the images flashing upon it. She found herself smiling when Andy's face appeared. She gasped when she saw some of the criminals she'd put away. It was a blur of images, so many images, until it stopped and replayed the scene of her fatal heart attack. It showed her Julio gracefully and gently scooping her up and placing her on the floor for CPR. It showed Rusty being dragged out of the office screaming on his phone while hers was chiming away on the desk. It showed the paramedics relieving Julio, intubating her and the ride to the hospital. It showed the team of ER personnel frantically trying to resuscitate her. It was vividly apparent she had died. The screen went dark as the doctors began to shut down machines.

"So, this is Purgatory?" Sharon looked up after the phone went dark again.

The Being took the phone back, "Not exactly."

"So, I'm dead?" was her reply.

"Maybe, or maybe not," the Being began. "You have worshiped God in the Person of Jesus your whole life long. He is not dead. He is very much alive."

Sharon nodded, for it was true.

"Then tell me what is death?" the Being asked in a gentle tone, supplanting the more demanding one used previously.

Sharon just started at the angel before replying, "When you put it that way, in that context, I guess I don't know."

The more demanding tone returned, "No. You don't. I remind you of what the Master Jesus told his followers about the Father being a God of the living and not of the dead."

The Being let that sink in for a good long while.

Then the Being demanded once more, "What are you doing here?"

Sharon was at a loss for words.

The Being said it again, a tad bit softer, but still demanding, "What are you doing here?"

Sharon shrugged.

The Being continued, "Now was not your time."

"But I thought it was," Sharon shot back.

"What made you think so?" the Being asked.

"My heart," Sharon offered.

"What about it?" the Being fired back without a moment of hesitation.

"Cardiomyopathy," was all she could say before the Being upbraided her.

"So what?" the Being snapped at her. "So you thought you'd play God?"

Sharon took offense, "But that was never my intention! There was a young mother who needed it more."

The Being laughed heartily, "You two were not even close to being viable tissue matches, by your medical standards today or anytime in the near future. So, what are you doing here?"

Sharon stood there silently, trying to figure it out.

After a long while the Being repeated the demand, "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," she said in exasperation, her hands raised by her sides then came down quickly.

"Well, that's a start," the Being replied.

More silence.

"What did God want?" Sharon finally asked.

"Correction. What does He want? Not 'did.' He wants you to live," the Being challenged her.

"How? My heart was so diseased," Sharon equivocated again. "there was nothing they could do. It was pointless. Futile!"

"You are making excuses," the Being leaned in as the words came out. "What did your beloved Andy tell you about excuses?"

"An addict does not need a reason, all he needs is an excuse to drink," she replied softly.

"So, what is your addiction?" the Being demanded to know.

Sharon was again at a loss for words.

Then she offered, "I don't have any addictions. I don't have to have a drink. I don't use drugs. I'm unaddicted," Sharon proclaimed confidently.

The Being shook its head and a wry smile began to spread across its face, sarcasm dropped as it spoke, "Oh no, not Sharon Raydor. She is impervious to addictions...other than having to have it her way all the time."

That was a verbal slap across her face. Instinctively, she held her hands to her cheeks. Sharon shook her head, "No, I don't."

The Being handed Sharon back her phone. The device began playing. She saw herself in Pope's office defiantly telling everyone that she had to go first! Then the device replayed times between Andy and her when she knew she had felt the need to win the argument. She was convinced stress of moving in was the cause of his heart attack and told him so. Several more scenes of Sharon playing "Sharon Knows Best" with Andy and with Rusty. Finally, the image of the book she'd been given earlier, _Love Your Life as It Is Now_." The device went dark again.

The Being took the phone back from her.

"Did you read it?" the Being asked kindly.

"No," she shook her head. "I didn't."

"Why not?"

"Oh, I didn't think it was for me. The guy, Bill Landon, who wrote it was a terrible person. He raped all those women..." she began.

"So, a sinner cannot teach you a thing, only the saints?" the Being challenged.

Sharon was made silent again as she needed to think about that. Her head bowed down as she tried to pull it together.

"How long do I have?" Sharon asked.

"That is not for me to decide," the Being responded. "Can you learn anything from the sinners in your life?"

She rolled her eyes, "Well I learned a lot of how not to do it from my ex," Sharon said with a snicker.

"Useful," replied the Being. "What positive things can you learn from the broken?"

Sharon tilted her head, "Broken?"

"Broken," stated the Being flatly. "Sinners are broken. You are broken. If you weren't, you would not be here."

"I know I'm a sinner," Sharon looked into the Being's eye. "I went to confession, received the Sacraments, all before I died."

"Yes. You did. I was there and watched you," the Being noted. "You had already given in to death's call."

Sharon did not like the sound of what the Being had just told her, "It wasn't like that at all!"

"Yes, it was," said the Being who followed the statement with the question, "What are you addicted to?"

"Back to that are we!" Sharon was getting angry again.

"Yes, we are. Lessons sometimes have to be repeated for learning to happen," gently responded the Being.

"Well, why don't you tell me what you think I'm addicted to!" Sharon spat back.

"It does not work that way," the Being noted. "Until you come to terms with your addiction, you're going to be 'stuck' in it."

Sharon fell into silence once more.

She took a deep breath and began again, "So, you are telling me that I'm stuck here with you until I pass your little test?"

"It's not a test. You passed and past the 'test' a while ago," replied the Being.

"Can you give me a least a clue? I am a detective, after all. I follow clues!" Sharon pushed back.

The Being returned the phone to her one more time. This time it displayed her office and how it looked on most days at the end of the day. It showed her the condo where she lived and loved. It showed her the car she drove into work. Everything was neat, tidy, orderly, and clean. Nothing was out of place, not even in the old gold Volvo before she had given it to Rusty to use.

Sharon shook her head and shoulders, "Nothing is out of place. I don't get it? It all looks like it should."

"By whose standard?" the Being inquired as the phone lit up to show her Rusty's room, the gold Volvo now, Emily's childhood room, Ricky's present home, the bullpen area in the middle of a case with pizza boxes and Chinese takeout scattered about. The device again went dark. The Being collected it once more.

Sharon tried to process it quickly as if her life depended upon a good and right answer.

"I'm a neat freak," she finally let it out.

"What causes people to be neat freaks?" the Being led on.

"Need for control," Sharon replied slowly.

The Being remained quiet and still.

"I'm addicted to control," Sharon finally spoke.

The Being nodded, "Even control over life and death." It paused, then added, "Is that your job?"

"No," Sharon said quietly. "That's God's job. My job is to put criminals behind bars and stop their criminal activity."

"What are you doing here, Sharon?" the Being repeated again.

Sharon looked at her hands, picked at her nails, then looked up at the Being, "I'm here because I wanted to control when and how I would die rather than leaving it to God. I could not stand to be sidelined at work. I could not stand it for Andy to take the lead in our marriage. I hated it when the doctor said I'd have to give up what I do for a living and sit in a ward with a bunch of sick people."

"And?" the Being encouraged.

"And I needed to be in charge. I've been in charge for so long... I hated it when Jack would leave, go to Vegas, sleep with other women, bring back debt and other stuff that never ever stayed in Vegas. I felt so out of control when I was married to him!"

"Yes, it's easy to see how Jack's instability would break you at your core," the Being spoke barely above a whisper.

"Jack!" Sharon spat his name, "Jack was all about Jack. He never cared about me or our children."

It began to tumble out. The anger flared and subsided. The hurt boiled up and calmed.

"I did not really want to be IA. Everyone hates IA. I never wanted to be hated by my fellow officers. I hated having to grow a thick skin and being so cold-hearted. They called me names I would never have chosen for myself - wicked witch, Darth Raydor, and all the rest. But IA was the quickest way to advance. The kids needed clothes and tuition, and a patrolman's salary would not sustain it all," Sharon was on a roll as she reexamined her life to date. "I was miserable, but I knew what the rules were. Rules are good. Somebody had to keep the rules."

"Did they?" the Being gently prodded.

"Well, of course," Sharon continued. "Without rules, life is anarchy and unstable!"

"Yes, rules are good things, at times." The Being continued, "But rules are not God."

Sharon stopped a moment.

"No, I guess they aren't."

"When God set up rules, you called them the laws of physics," smiled the Being. "When God breaks one of the rules, you call it a miracle."

Sharon blinked a moment, "Miracle?"

"Miracle."

"How can I have a miracle, now?" Sharon's eyes teared up a bit. "I'm dead."

"Are you?"

"I'm here, am I not?"

"What are you doing here?" the Being came back to the same question that had begun the discussion.

"Am I learning how to live with what I have," Sharon continued, "instead of what I don't have or what I demand?"

The Being softened its smile, "I believe you are beginning to learn that lesson, yes."

"Then I have sinned by not enjoying the life that God had given me?" Sharon needed to know.

"Yes, you could say it that way," the Being replied kindly.

"Can I be forgiven and restored?" asked Sharon.

"God is the God of the living and not of the dead," the Being repeated. "He is your God, but more importantly, you belong to Him."

"Can He still use me, broken and all?" Sharon needed to know.

"He can and would be delighted to," the Being nodded.

"I can't be a cop anymore though," Sharon pondered. "What will I do?"

"Now there is a truly existential question that all people eventually have to ask and answer," the Being said.

More silence.

"What will I do?" Sharon asked again, more insistently this time.

"Are you a human being or a human doing?" was the question the Being asked.

Sharon puzzled with that for a moment, "I've worked as long as I can remember. I worked my way through school. I worked Jack's way through law school. Work is what I know."

"Is it all you know?" was the quick response.

"I know how to raise kids, work, and go to school," she responded.

"Sounds like you view yourself as a human doing," offered the Being. "However, your God and mine created you as a human being."

"Human being. Human doing," Sharon mulled. "What's the difference? 'To be' means we have 'to do' or we starve to death!"

"Consider with whom you live. Consider where you live. Tell me that is a real and genuine problem for you at this very moment in time," replied the Being a bit harshly.

"I have always been a human doing, then. Happy now?" Sharon shot back folding her arms across her chest.

"I am loved by the Father. How could I not be filled with His joy?" the Being responded gently.

"What's so wrong with being a human doing?" Sharon asked.

"What did it get you?" the Being asked. "Nice things? A steady paycheck? A pleasant place to live?"

"Sure. It did." Sharon said almost defiantly.

"And the human being part. What did it get you?" the Being pushed back.

Sharon blinked a moment, then spoke, "My Andy. The kids. The team."

The Being nodded, "Now which is more important? The power and control you believed you needed to have over all things and the people in your life? Or the people who love you and are in your life because they want to be there?"

"The people," Sharon said sadly. "But they are gone now. I'm gone, I mean."

"You blew it! Is that the best you can muster?" the Being demanded to know.

Sharon shook her head and shoulders, "I guess so."

"What are you doing here?" the Being reiterated.

"I'm here, wherever here is or whatever here is, because I needed to control my life," she declared. "I'm a human doing."

"Would you like to be a human being?" the Being offered. "Human beings are made in the Image of God, you know. Are you willing to love your life just the way it is now?"

"I don't know," Sharon cried into her hands.

The Being reached out and touched her for the first time since she'd arrived. The Being was a few inches taller than Sharon, so it leaned in and lifted her face. The Being then gently wiped away her tears and smiled.

"What did the man ask Jesus when the disciples failed to cast out the demon from his son?" asked the Being, still cradling her chin.

"Help my unbelief," Sharon recited. "Father Stan preached on that passage not long ago."

"It was a Wednesday night service. You went while Andy went to a meeting," the Being supplied.

She nodded.

"Do you know why Father Stan preached on that?" the Being asked.

Sharon shook her head, "No clue."

"Your Ever-faithful Father knew you were coming to this point. He wanted you to hear that message, to prepare you for this moment," responded the Being.

Sharon began to cry again, "I am loved and did not really have a clue."

The Being again reached out to wipe away the tears which were flowing profusely by now. The Being placed the captured tears into a vial and tucked the vial into its pocket. Sharon watched the Being gathering her tears with amazement. Her tears began to cease as the weight on her chest lifted without warning. She felt free.

"Help my unbelief!" she begged. "I want to be a human being, not a human doing. I want to live in the Image of God. I want to be loved. This time without reservation."

"And so you shall," replied the Being.

"What are you doing here?" was the refrain which the Being again called.

"I'm here to be given a second chance," Sharon claimed.

"Indeed you are," nodded the Being. "You will not be alone. You have never been alone, even at your darkest times. The Father, the Son, and the Spirit, God Eternal has always been with you, loving you, wanting you to succeed as a beautiful human being, made in His Image."

Sharon began to laugh, "And all it took to convince me was dying."

The Being began to laugh with her. Quickly, Sharon took comfort in the arms of the Being as they laughed and laughed.

"It's gone, you know," She said from the safety of its bosom. "The fear. It's gone. The need to be in tight control. It's gone. I'm really free."

The Being pulled back, "Yes, you are free. Shall I return you?"

"Please," Sharon requested.

"Accept help from others when you go back. Remember that pain, no matter how intense, is but temporary. The Father's love for you is everlasting," the Being said.

"Guardian Angel, where is here?" Sharon asked.

"You see the light off in the distance?"

"You came from there," she replied.

"And I'm going back there. Beyond the light is Heaven where the fullness of the Father dwells. I serve Him. He sent me to you just now, to help you learn to live fully," the Being told her, "to accept the joy that Jesus has given you."

"How do I do that?" Sharon shook her head. "I have to start all over."

"And you say that like it's a bad thing," chuckled the Being. "Little One, one of life's most important lessons is learning how to reinvent yourself by overcoming challenges that are found in life. Some of those challenges come from the Father to foster growth. Others come from the fact that the world is broken by sin and misused free will."

The Being began to turn, "Oh, the woman on whom you misplaced your mercy is a perfect tissue match with the man you know as Philip Stroh."

Sharon's hands went to her mouth, "Oh no! He's really back?"

"He is coming for you, your team, and your son," said the Being.

"What will I do? I'm going back to be in the transplant ward!" exclaimed Sharon.

"You will let go. You will be a human being, not a human doing," responded the Being. "Others can and will pick up the load that you have carried. What did Paul say?"

"Bear one another's burdens," Sharon quoted.

"Yes, he did," the Being remarked. "At this moment, it's your turn to have your burdens borne by another. Accept that gift. It's God's grace. It is not for you to bring Stroh to justice and before the Judgment Seat. That is for another to do."

"You are asking for the impossible!" she exploded.

The Being smiled, "Your team is more than competent. You trained them!"

Sharon blushed, "Yes, I did."

"Now turn around and start walking back to where you came from," the Being ordered.

Sharon turned and began walking. She paused and glanced over her shoulder to get a last glimpse of the Guardian Angel one last time. However, the Being was gone. The light that was far off was gone. She was alone in the grey. Closing her eyes, drawing in a deep breath, she began walking again.

The machines fired up around the ER doctors and Sharon's cardiologist, Dr. Torres. With a shriek, Sharon drew in a deep breath and clutched her chest which felt as if it were both on fire and as if several elephants had just gotten up from there.

The people in the room wheeled around to see what was happening. The cardiologist was pulled away from the paperwork that went with a death certificate to see the patient was alive, and not dead at all. The nurse yanked back the sheet from Sharon's face and stared into mossy green eyes.

The monitor did not read perfect sinus rhythm. It sketched out a heartbeat of a poorly functioning heart.

"Leave the tube in," yelled the doctor. "OR - stat!"

Running next to the gurney, he leaned over his patient, "We are putting in the Left Ventricular Assist Device while I've got you here. You died but came back. We want to keep it that way!"

Sharon nodded and closed her eyes. The pain was tremendous. Sweat broke across her face and upper body. Tears flowed down her cheeks. She took ragged breaths, but they were her breaths. Pain is temporary, she remembered her Guardian Angel telling her.

Nevertheless, sedation was a relief and release. Her body did not know if it wanted to die or to live, for it was so wracked with pain and brokenness. Her sternum was separated from its ribs with a few of those ribs being simply broken during the CPR process. Her body was fighting itself as the haze of anesthesia overwhelmed her consciousness.

Days later, Sharon gradually awakened and was weaned off the vent. She was more than a little happy to be free of the vent and tube. Most of all, she was overwhelmed with the feeling of love from within and without. She remembered much of her encounter with her Guardian Angel when she was neither dead nor fully alive. Her unconscious mind was aware of who came and went in the hospital room. She loved it when Rusty came and read to her. She could not feel Andy's touch, but she could hear him kiss her hands and face when he came and went. He'd speak softly about what the weather was doing, what they had for supper last night, how Rusty was learning new dishes to sustain them, how the various sports teams she followed were doing, and staying far away from work talk. She could hear Emily crying her eyes out and Ricky telling his sister it would be alright.

It had been a full week since her fatal heart attack and experience with death when Sharon's eyes fluttered open. Since glycerin was instilled, her vision was blurry; furthermore, her glasses were in some unknown place. Her throat felt as if it were ablaze from the intubation. She wondered if it had been a tube or a cactus that was shoved down her trachea. Her arms felt very heavy as did her legs.

"Honey!" exclaimed Andy. "You're awake! You stayed with me!"

Andy was exuberant!

"Sorry," she croaked out.

"For what?" Andy leaned in and kissed her forehead before sitting back down with her hand still clasped in his.

"For leaving you," she whispered.

"But you're here," he had a quizzical look on his face.

"Wasn't always," she replied as she squeezed his hand. "Was selfish. Was depressed. Was out of control."

"Sweetheart," Andy began, "but you are here now. They told us how you were dead then spontaneously came back."

Sharon nodded, "Stroh...coming...for me...for you...for Rusty...for the team."

Andy nodded, "We knew that was a reality. You will always have one of us with you 24/7. The team has photos of Stroh and will be more than happy to take him down if he so much as darkens your door."

"He's a donor match to that woman I told you about, you know, the one with the kids on the transplant ward," she continued.

"Okay, so Provenza or Julio will shoot him in the head," Andy laughed it off.

"No seriously," Sharon's eyes were clearing. "Save his heart for her. Please."

"Shhh," Andy advised. "You need to rest. Stop worrying about other things."

Sharon nodded, "I'm addicted to control. Help me."

Andy held her hand closer and kissed it repeatedly, "I know. I will. Admitting you are powerless _is_ the first step. We will take this step-by-step...together."

With that, Sharon's eyes fluttered shut and with a soft whisper, "I love you, Andy Flynn."

Andy responded, "And I love you, Sharon Raydor, I mean Flynn."

Thank you all for the kind comments and feedback. I've made some small changes here and there as a result.

And a nod of thanks to C. S. Lewis's _The Great Divorce_. Those who have read this little gem will have a vague awareness of similarities in this chapter to the platform before the bus ride away.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gus was feeling left out, like a kid in a room full of adults. He wanted to be there for

Rusty in his time of need as Rusty had been there for him as his sister's murder case

navigated its way through the justice system. Rusty, though, was still very distant and

aloof. At times, Gus felt as if Rusty would be happier if Gus were not even there. But

that would not make Gus happy, so he stayed with Rusty in the hospital between work

shifts at the restaurant.

Late one afternoon, Gus made his way to the ICU waiting room where Rusty had his papers spread out across a table waiting for his turn to see his Mom. Patrice was back with her at the moment, having chased Andy home for a shower, food, and much needed rest. In a few days, Sharon would be moved to a regular room on the transplant ward. There Andy could "move in" with some of his and her bathroom stuff. He might even get a small part of the closet for a suit to be stashed there should the need arise. He already knew that one chair folded out like a fancy first-class seat on Dubai Air. All he'd need was a blanket and pillow.

"Hey," Gus said softly.

Rusty looked up, "Hey."

Gus settled in a chair nearby and watch Rusty shuffling photographs, news articles, a

folded map, and police reports.

"What's that?" Gus asked.

Without looking back at Gus, Rusty informed him, "Some of my Stroh files."

"Anything new?"

Rusty stayed quiet and continues studying the material he had in front of him as if he

was looking at it for the very first time. Lying in the pile was Sharon's folder on Stroh. She'd told Rusty about the folder and which of her desk drawers it lived in about two days ago. She had kept it from him until now. Paperclipped to the outside front of the folder was Stroh's mugshot. As Rusty pawed through the stack, that folder rose to the top and caught Gus's eye.

He leaned over peering at the face in the photo. It looked strangely familiar. Where had

he seen this guy?

"Who is that?" Gus finally asked Rusty.

"What guy?" Rusty never bothered to look up.

Gus tugged the folder closer to himself and pointed, "This guy. The one in the photo?"

Now Rusty looked up, first at the folder then at Gus, "That's Stroh. Well, at least that is what he looked like just before he killed the judge and ran off."

"Man, he looks so familiar to me," Gus could not shake the feeling. "I know I've seen him somewhere."

"You better hope you haven't, Gus," Rusty was now paying attention. "He's a serial rapist and serial killer. he's really dangerous."

"Yeah, state the obvious," Gus retorted, slightly annoyed at Rusty's condescending tone.

Rusty shrugged, "Yeah, well, they say he's got a beard now."

With that announcement, Rusty returned to rereading the newspaper articles for some missed tidbit or clue.

Gus pulled the photo off the folder and stared at it, thinking as hard as he could to figure out where he'd seen that face.

"There is a guy who is new to town who comes to the restaurant for lunch," Gus began. "He's really nice, great tipper, too. He kinda looks like this guy. And, my customer has got a beard."

Rusty froze in horror.

Gus continued while focusing on the photo, "But it could not be Stroh. This guy is really nice. Super respectful. He's nothing like a serial killer...just can't shake it."

"Gus, serial killers are often the most charming person in the room," Rusty began. "Andrea has been teaching me stuff about serial killers to get me ready for

Stroh, if he really does come back for me."

"Well, I guess he's back then," Gus commented glumly.

"No, no, now we have the advantage," Rusty indicated. "He doesn't know that we know he's back."

He dialed Provenza's number.

"Yes, Rusty," Provenza answered. "How's your Mom doing? Everything okay down there?"

"As far as I know, yes. But Lieutenant, we just caught a break on the Stroh case," he whispered excitedly into the phone, even though only he and Gus were in the waiting room.

"Do not mess with Stroh, yourself, son," Provenza cautioned. "What information do you have that we did not have earlier."

"He's here in town. He visited Gus's restaurant. And he is wearing a beard!" Rusty fired back as quickly as he could.

Provenza assembled the team in the bullpen with Rusty and Gus.

"All right, here is what we know," Provenza began as Mason looked on from the back of the room. "Stroh is back in LA. He's already started his hunter's stalk by finding Gus, here. It means he already has a plan to kill our Commander and Rusty. So, from here on until we have the bastard in custody, none of us go anywhere alone. Period."

Rusty looked very uneasy while Gus gave him a "puppy dog look."

"Gus," Rusty whispered, "you are in as much danger as any of the rest of us, too. You've seen his face. When he's done with me, he'll come after you."

Amy leaned in, "Or he may start with you to hurt Rusty."

Gus's face went ashen with the contemplation of those twin thoughts.

"Here are the assignments. Cami, you and Nolan will stake out the restaurant with Gus. If Stroh shows back up, take him down."

Cami and Nolan nodded and moved toward Gus.

Wes directed, "Okay, let's get a vest for you and get you to work."

"Julio, you and Sykes will keep Rusty and the Commander safe in her hospital room," relayed Provenza.

"Mike, you and Buzz drag everything on the net to find him. Cameras, whatever it takes. I want to know where the hell he is and where the hell he's been!" Provenza ordered.

"Flynn, you and I will also be at the hospital. I'm going back 'undercover' as a doctor like before. I want you to do the same," Provenza sketched out. "Oh, and Chief Mason, I need you to coordinate Lt Cooper's SIS at the hospital where our principals are going to be."

Flynn spoke, "So, you are going to intentionally draw him to the hospital?"

"Like the moth to the flame," Provenza declared triumphantly. "Everyone, make sure you have good comms with Buzz and Tao back here. And for God's sake, wear your vests. On second thought, I want you two in the van in the parking lot of the hospital, just in case we need you. So vest up."

All eyes were on Provenza and nodding in agreement.

"Now, let's go, get this bastard," ordered Mason who turned to head to his office to double check arrangements with SIS.

Stroh sat at the table in his dingy rented room. The TV was on but muted in the background. He stared into a small gym bag deciding which weapon he wanted to use. Next to the gym bag was a hand-drawn sketch of the hospital, the floor and ward where Sharon was, and the room number circled. He picked up a .32 pistol, screwed in a suppressor, checked the magazine, chambered a round then added one more bullet to the magazine before tucking it into the waistline of his pants. He picked up the sketch of the floor where Sharon lay. He made note of the access points, stairs, elevators, nurses' stations. Then he folded it and put it into the pocket of his scrubs. He threw on a lab coat and headed out the door. This was the first day he would begin to stalk his prey. He had to see the lay of the land for himself. Where were hospital security guards, the police that would surely accompany Raydor, the medical staff, the exits, the stairs, etc.? Part of the thrill of the hunt was the preparation and stalking. It made him feel alive, blood on fire.

Flynn felt completely out of place in scrubs and lab coat. He'd wished Provenza had let him just switch out the lab coat for his suit jacket. However, that was Provenza's "disguise" instead. Flynn did not like the way the vest chafed him since all that was between him and the outer shell of the vest was a tee shirt instead of tee shirt and dress shirt. Without his suspenders, he also felt like the scrub pants might fall down at any moment. His pistol was also happily working with gravity, making him all the more uncomfortable about the pants falling down. It meant he'd be pulling them up every so often and grumble about it. He envisioned himself running to Sharon's door only to trip on the pants which had fallen down around his ankles.

Julio sat at the nurse's station on Sharon's ward pretending to be a unit clerk. His eyes seldom left her door. Instead of volatile angry Julio, today he was going to be patient sniper Julio who merely was lying in wait for the quarry to show up. Every now and then, he'd pick up a record, flip through it, and pretend to enter information on the computer which sat in front of him. Provenza had moved the uniformed officer from Sharon's door to a door across from Sharon's. He did not want them all tripping over one another. Just maybe, it would cause Stroh some confusion, too.

Amy got a deck of cards from her desk and stuck them in Rusty's messenger bag, "To pass the time," she said.

Once she had Rusty in a vest, she drove them to the hospital.

Sharon had stabilized with the LVAD implant, new meds, and a quieter surrounding. She also continued to ruminate about what her Guardian Angel had told her about taking down Stroh belonging to someone else as well as learning how to let go of her need to control things. She had even asked Andy to bring in that book that Landon had given her shortly before his murder. The first couple of chapters were really not a bad read. Provenza had briefed her on the overall plan of catching the "moth" with her as the flame. Mason made it clearer still by ordering her to do nothing! The team had it all, she was to remain on the sideline this time.

Sharon thought she heard the Being reminding her that Stroh was not hers but another's to defeat. So, she agreed fully with both Provenza and Mason on the matter. She would let God deal with Stroh and with her own well-being. It was one of the hardest things she ever had to do. She willingly gave up control to others.

A light knock at the door, fingers tucked around the edge of the door, and a chipper, "Hi Mom!" were what pulled Sharon's head up and nose out of the book.

Sharon beamed at Rusty, "Hi yourself!"

Sharon was in casual clothes sitting in the chair near the window. She tucked a slip of paper to mark her spot. Amy followed Rusty inside.

"My turn," declared Sykes. "Lt Provenza said he told you that one of us would be with you 24/7 until Stroh is dealt with, so it's my turn."

Rusty handed her the playing cards, "Anyone for a game of gin rummy?"

Rusty found another chair and the three of them settled into for several hands of rummy. In the mid-afternoon, Sharon's nurse came in with the shift change to do meds, vitals, and check on her patient. He would not disturb Andy's chair-bed over by Sharon's bed.

After checking the chart, Naomi spoke, "Commander, it's time for you to take a lap around the ward. We've had you sitting up for a few hours. The doctor wants to have you walk slowly then rest."

Rusty moved out of the way as the nurse retrieved the walker from the corner of the room. The whole party moved slowly through the hallways of the transplant ward. Julio looked up and gave a small nod to Sykes. Andy could not resist one of his goofy smiles as she passed by where he was posted. Provenza did his best poker face when she caught sight of him.

Once back in the room, vitals were collected as Sharon sat in the chair.

"Now, back to bed for a rest. We want to see your vitals while lying down," Naomi added.

Satisfied, the nurse took her leave of the trio. She had covered Sharon with a lightweight cotton blanket.

It was on the sixth day of the "stake out" that things finally picked up. Amy peeked out the door then moved the game to the tray table where they continued just as they had done every day since Gus first warned them that Stroh was back in town. She faced the door, Rusty to her right, and Sharon on the bed on her side. The game continued for some time before the door eased open. All Amy saw was the back of some staff person with some kind of cart - until he wheeled around.

"Stroh!" Amy exclaimed.

Stroh leveled the pistol at Amy, "Three for one," he purred.

Rusty's eyes were wide open. Without hesitation, he threw himself across Sharon to shield her from Stroh's weapon.

"I got this, Jumpstreet," yelled Sykes as she flew over the bed feet first.

Amy's foot made solid contact with the side of Stroh's head. Stroh reeled backward and to the side, his jaw fractured. The pistol discharged with a soft pop. Amy followed up her savage foot with savage open-handed blows to his head with lightning speed and agility. The pistol discharged once again before clattering to the tile floor. Stroh's head hit the metal corner of Andy's chair-bed as it made its way to the floor.

It was Julio who stormed through the door first, followed by the uniformed officer. Amy

had Stroh fully on the ground and was quite literally beating him to death.

"Sykes! Sykes!" he screamed as he worked to pull her off their quarry.

Julio had his arms around Amy's middle and was pulling her off. Mason, who had only just arrived, had followed him and grabbed Amy's arms.

"At ease, Soldier!" he commanded. "That's enough! ENOUGH! Stand down!"

Amy stopped striking her arms but was still not relaxed as Julio held her, Mason let go, "It's over. It's over," he repeated in hushed tones.

Amy was still breathing heavily as she relaxed enough to be let out of Julio's grasp.

"I'm all right. I'm all right," Amy shook with the latent effects of adrenaline and lingering rage.

Mason knelt down to check Stroh, "Well, I can say with some satisfaction that our Mr. Stroh here, is not all right."

Julio retrieved Stroh's weapon and looked for where the bullets landed.

Wet, warm, red blood pooled on the sheet of Sharon's bed near her hip. Rusty eased himself off his mother's body.

"Mom? Mom?" he began. "Are you okay?"

A stunned Sharon nodded.

Rusty continued, "Ever been shot?"

With that Rusty slumped down into the chair where he'd been playing cards moments ago, "I think I'm hit," he remarked nonchalantly as he drew a bloody hand away from his side. Looking at his hand covered in his own blood, Rusty passed out with his head on the bed.

The room was fast filling with medical personnel. Her day nurse immediately went to check on Sharon's condition. The monitors noted an elevated heart rate. It was hard to tell if she'd been hit or not since Rusty's blood covered her as well.

"Rusty! Rusty!" Sharon cried and tried to wiggle free from her nurse.

"Easy, easy!" the nurse ordered as she quickly examined her patient for gunshot wounds. "Looks like you're fine."

Mason and Julio moved the uniformed officer and themselves out of the room, dragging

Sykes with them, "Make way for the medical team!"

Julio fell against the wall outside and began to laugh uncontrollably, "Make way for

ducklings," came out unfiltered after exhaustion had finally taken hold.

Stroh's body was put on a gurney and taken down to the ER for treatment. Mason followed, "Detective Sanchez, keep an eye on Detective Sykes," he called over his shoulder.

Julio nodded, "Come on Sykes, let's have them take a look at you downstairs," then to the commander, "We'll be back, Ma'am."

To the uniformed officer, he turned and order, "You stay here" as he posted the uniformed officer outside the door.

Rusty was placed on a gurney and also taken down to the ER.

Sharon was alone and trembling. She rolled over on her side and reached for the drawer

of the tray table which Rusty had moved to one side in an effort to protect her. The card game now lay all over the table, the bed, and the floor. Inside, safe from the chaos without, she found what she was looking for - the rosary that Fr Stan had brought by for

her when she was checked-in for the "stay" as she termed it.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she began, "Hail Mary, full of grace, have mercy..."

She had prayed one decade when she abruptly stopped and cried out, "Lord God, save

my son! You have been so merciful to me of late, please have mercy on me again...and now."

A tender calm came across her and she thought she heard her name being called by the

Guardian Angel. She rolled back over and found the room just as empty as it was five

minutes ago. She looked at the crucifix dangling from the end of the rosary. She ran

her fingers across the form of a man nailed to a Roman cross. It made being trapped in the middle of a crime scene more doable.

"Yes, Jesus, I do love you," she mouthed as her soul connected to the Divine Presence. She drew the crucifix to her mouth and kissed it then rested it upon her forehead. She permitted herself to breathe as deeply as broken ribs would permit. She closed her eyes and tried to hear Him calling her name again. The solitude was no longer intimidating. It was no longer solitude either.

The nursing assistant quietly entered the room and found Sharon continuing to pray using

her rosary.

With a soft voice, "Commander, may I get you cleaned up?"

There was blood pretty much everywhere. Rusty's blood stained the sheets and her clothes.

Stroh's blood was drying on the chair and floor. Amy really had mopped the floor with

him. Sharon decided that deep inside her, Amy was a tiger, much like herself. _Perhaps I could be more of a direct mentor_ , she thought. _I don't want Amy to become a human doing and make the mistakes I've made along the way._

"No, you can't touch anything," Sharon declared. "I'm sitting in the middle of a crime scene!"

Tao arrived quickly and took charge but only after a few "Holy Crap!" exploded from his lips. He remained at the door so as to preserve what he could of the crime scene.

"I take it that you're okay, Ma'am?"

Sharon nodded, "I guess you might call it that...in some other universe."

"I'll get the techs up here right away," he offered his boss. "Let me get some booties, so we can move you to a clean room or something."

Provenza stood next to Tao, "I don't do stairs. Flynn is with the kid who is going to be fine. It's just a flesh wound. Probable ricochet according to Amy and Julio. So, don't you worry about Rusty!"

Andy came up an hour or so later to report that Rusty's wound was a through-and-through, having caught him in the fleshy part of his waistline. The sight of his own blood and the adrenaline rush were what caused him to pass out. As soon as the doctors were finished applying the dressing and tetanus shot, Rusty would be back up to show her that he was truly fine. Andy promised that he'd get Rusty back to the condo for the night.

Stroh had a cracked skull from hitting the metal edge of the chair on the way to the floor. Over the next few days, he was put on life support as his next of kin was sought. A cousin was found by the end of the week. He had known Phillip when they were boys growing up. Jimmy was living on a farm in rural northern California and drove down to see his childhood playmate. After hearing all that Stroh had done, he asked that Phillip's brain be donated to science. It was Jimmy's decision to end the life support and donate the rest of the organs. At least in death, Phillip Stroh would make some lives whole.

Months later, a heart was located which matched Sharon's needs. By the time she had made a full recovery, she was a few steps into the 12-Step program to recover from her addiction to control. She actually found that she could begin to enjoy being pampered for a change. She decided that letting go and becoming a human being was better than being a human doing when it was all said and done. She learned to savor every moment with Andy, Rusty, and her friends who were once her team.

Andy decided to work perhaps as much as one more year before retiring with his wife. Sharon put her papers in shortly after the transplant had been made. It was enough. She had been successful at what she did for a living. Now it was time to explore the person within after the promised honeymoon to Ireland.

-the end-


End file.
